DEAN:

Sitting in class trying to focus on a research assignment is the last thing I feel like doing at the moment. The past month has been a true test of my will. More times than I care to admit, I found myself talking, thinking, and dreaming about Jessie. I won't even get into that one drunken night when I wound up stumbling my way to her building. I pounded on the security doors for a good twenty minutes before Liv tracked me down and drug my dumb ass home.

Speaking of Liv, her name is blinking at the top of one of the tabs I have open in my web browser. That's what I get for leaving Facebook open when I'm trying to get research done.

Livia Lawson: Meet me at Cuppa Joe's in ten.

Dean Wilkins: Can't. Research period; which you already know since you're sitting two rows in front of me.

I peer over the heads of the people in the rows between us and see Liv's pile of blonde hair pop up as she searches for me in the room. When she catches my eye she glares at me, then lowers her gaze back to the computer screen in front of her.

Livia Lawson: This is important. Friedrich isn't even monitoring the class, he's too busy hitting on his T.A. in the hall. Come on, Wilkins. Grow a pair, let's go.

Dean Wilkins: Yes, because insults are great motivators. Just tell me what's up now if it's so important.

Livia Lawson: I'm not doing this online…

Dean Wilkins: Then I guess it can wait until class is over. :-P

Livia Lawson: …

Dean Wilkins: That's an awful loud pause you've got there, Liv.

Livia Lawson: Just…just know that I really didn't want to have to tell you this at all, let alone on a damn computer…

Dean Wilkins: Enough ellipses. Spit it out.

Livia Lawson: I saw Jessie out with another guy.

Blinking, I reread her message once, twice, and it's still the same. Regardless, there has to be a mistake.

Dean Wilkins: You're sure it was her?

Livia Lawson: Dude, give me a little credit. I wouldn't come to you with this if I wasn't sure.

My stomach sinks and the contents begin to swirl violently.

Dean Wilkins: Maybe you misunderstood what you saw.

Livia Lawson: I figured you might say that.

The next message that comes through isn't text, but a box. It takes a second for the picture to load completely. When it does, there's no mistaking the girl in the picture. It's Jessie with a challenging smile on her face, eyes lit up with amusement. She's playfully slapping the bare chest of a guy at least six inches taller, and six years older, than her. I can't see much of his face, just the profile because of the angle of the shot. It's enough.

Dean Wilkins: Meet you outside in five.

Livia Lawson: Thought that might change your mind.

Feeling like I'm moving on auto-pilot, I save everything to my thumb drive and log out of the computer. Normally I'd be concerned about stealth when leaving in the middle of class. Not today. I walk straight through the door and out into the courtyard where I proceed to kick a metal trashcan like an insolent child.

"Fuck!" I yell, to no one in particular, and toss my bag down next to a wooden bench. I pace, hoping to burn off some anger while I'm waiting for Liv.

"Calm down, Romeo," she says as she walks up and takes a seat on the bench, popping a stick of gum in her mouth. I look at her like she just grew a second head.

"Calm down? I'm sorry, how exactly did you expect me to react to that picture? And how the hell did you even get it?" I rake my hand through my hair, tugging hard on the ends as if causing myself physical pain will somehow impede the emotional anguish rushing toward the surface.

Snapping her gum, she grips the bench on either side of her, crossing her legs at the ankles. "Apparently we go to the same gym now. She's back to working out, in case your spies haven't updated you yet this week."

It's true. I've been getting together with Jamie for lunch at least once a week and he keeps me updated on what's going on in her life. We both play it off as shooting the shit about nothing in particular, but he knows why I keep asking to meet with him. I haven't seen him in a few days though, so I didn't know she was cleared yet.

"So, who is this douche? Do you know him? Does he work out there a lot?" I quit pacing and drop down on the other end of the bench.

"He's been there longer than I have. I think he's tight with the owner or something. We've talked a few times, mostly about workout related stuff, but I know a little about him. Seems like an okay guy. He's older though, late twenties I think." She continues to pick at a large splinter of wood in the bench, not looking in my direction.

"What aren't you telling me?" I ask, wary.

"Well, he's also a physical therapist for the university hospital. We've joked before about how it's, uh, not a bad way to meet girls. You know, hands on and all that. Obviously we were just joking about it before, but now given the circumstances, I couldn't help but wonder…"

That's it. The last thread of self control officially snaps. I shoot to my feet and snatch my bag from the ground. I'm several yards away before Liv catches up to me.

"Don't do anything stupid, D. You're the one preaching trust and being open. Talk to her before you do anything rash."

I yank the car door open and toss my bag in the back, slamming that door and jerking the driver's door open next. "Now, what makes you think I'm gonna do something rash?"

I close the door in her face, but not before I hear her mutter, "Gee, I have no idea." I peel out of the parking lot, leaving her shaking her head behind me.

I'm at Jessie's apartment complex in less than five minutes. I take a second to calm down in the car, then give myself another couple of minutes by using the stairs rather than the elevator. I don't have a plan. No speech, no real approach. I haven't talked to this girl, the girl I'm so damned crazy in love with, in so long. I start to second guess myself, wondering if I should just go home and cool off, then come back when I can be rational. We're broken up; my doing. She can do whatever she wants. I don't have a right to be pissed off.

I've almost convinced myself to go back down the stairs when I come out on her floor in time to see her waving to the tool from the picture as he steps onto the elevator. Yeah, there's no rationality to be had right now. I march straight over to her and she doesn't notice until I'm almost on top of her. She turns and her face is full of surprise, then a small smile appears.

"Dean, I was just about to come see y—"

"Who's the asshole?" I cut her off, not able to keep my anger in check.

"Huh? Who…wait, Landon?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Is that his name? Figures. You know, Jamie painted a pretty different picture than the one I'm seeing right now. You don't look so miserable from where I'm standing. Not with your new boyfriend hanging around." I spit the venomous words at her before I can tamp them down.

"Woah, hold on. You've talked to Jamie about me? Dean, what the hell? YOU dumped ME. Am I wrong? So why are you keeping tabs on me? Why do you care who I'm hanging out with?" She crosses her arms across her chest and I can't help that my eyes are drawn down immediately. I hadn't noticed that she was dressed in workout clothes. Small gray shorts are painted on her hips and thighs, the tightest white sports bra I've ever seen hugs her chest beneath a baggy, dark gray tank top. I curse my dick for reacting to her when I'm trying so hard to stay pissed off.

She snaps her fingers in my face and the trance is broken. "My face is up here, still waiting for some answers."

Clearing my throat, I pick up my train of thought again. Asshole guy leaving her apartment. Right. Got it. "We broke up because you couldn't trust me enough. Guess I'm the one who should've been reserving my trust." As soon as the words are out, I regret them. I'm just being an idiot right now, a jealous idiot, but I don't take them back. I let them sit there, hanging in the air, waiting for a reaction. I'm not disappointed.

"I'm sorry, let's get a few things straight," she says, jamming a finger into my chest. "WE did not break up. You broke up with me. I wanted to work things out. You couldn't be bothered, wouldn't even let me try. You crushed me. Then at that party, you humiliated me. I put myself out there and you turned me away." Her bottom lip quivers, in anger or sadness, I can't tell which. I want to wrap my arms around her, but the small sign of weakness is gone quickly as she goes on.

"Now you see a guy leaving my apartment and what, assume I just jumped into bed with the first person who looked my way?" Her breath is heaving when she finishes, her anger level matching my own.

In another universe, another dimension, my alter ego would've thought this next move through and decided against it. I would give anything to be there instead of here right now. But no, I hammer the final nail into my metaphorical coffin.

Taking the phone from my pocket, I swipe to the Facebook app and pull up the conversation between me and Liv, tapping the picture she sent so that it fills the whole screen. "Kinda looks that way to me," I say, shoving the phone in her face.

Confusion, recognition, shock and fury. All four emotions pass over her features in a matter of seconds. She yanks the phone from my hand and studies the picture closely before tossing it back at me, hitting my chest.

"So you've got my brother reporting in to you, and someone tailing me at the gym. What else? Did you plant a tracking device in my phone? Have you bugged my bedroom, too?" She's yelling now and I see a neighbor poke their head out into the hall a few doors down before wisely closing the door again.

"Not sure I'd like what I hear if I did that." Seriously man, what is wrong with you? Shut. The fuck. Up!

"You asshole!" Her hand cracks against the skin on my cheek before I can anticipate her movements. I grip my face and rub at the stinging flesh. "You accuse me of not being able to trust, yet here you are making me out to be some kind of slut, interrogating me, and demanding answers to questions you no longer have a right to! Who's the one with trust issues now? For your information, Landon was my physical therapist for my arm. He's helping me get back in shape at the gym. He's a friend."

"Right," I say, obstinately.

"You can believe me, or not. But here's something for you to chew on. I was coming to your house today to tell you that I wanted to start over, that I wanted a chance, and that I wasn't going to stop fighting for you, for us, because I love you too much. Y'know who convinced me to do that?" Her eyes are wide and shining brightly. I can't quite get my voice to cooperate, stunned by her admission. Dreading her next words. "Landon. He is the one who told me that I needed to show you that I wasn't giving up. Force you to listen."

A tear slips down her cheek and she wipes it away roughly, cursing its existence. I take a step towards her and she backs up automatically, her hand reaching for the door knob, the other stretching out between us like a shield. "No. I think that's one piece of advice I'm going to ignore. You're obviously not in the position to be rational, and I'm not willing to be with someone who preaches about my trust issues but can't summon up an ounce of his own."

"Jessie, please, can we just—"

"No," she cuts me off. "We can't. Go, Dean." She waves her hand in the direction of the stairwell.

Defiantly, I take another step in her direction and she twists the knob at the same time that she yells, "Go! You made it clear what you think of me, now stay the hell away from me."

With a wood-splintering crack, the door slams shut in my face. I think about my accusing words, the way I've been skulking around sifting information about her from wherever I could get it, and now coming here like this with the picture from Liv. It's no wonder she's disgusted with me. I'm fucking disgusted with myself. How is she supposed to trust me when I can't show her that I trust her?

Refusing to let things end like this, I pound on the door, calling out her name, begging her to open the door and hear me out. When it finally does swing open, it's not Jessie but Kelsey who I'm now face to face with.

"Dean, leave." Kelsey sighs, looking at me with an air of apathy. "I was on your side throughout this whole thing, but you're in the wrong here. You can't betray her like this and then expect her to hear you out. You didn't want to hear her out a month ago, right? Well, now you're the one who needs to find a way to fix this. But not tonight. Go home, Dean." She closes the door in my face, but much more gently than Jessie had.

I close my eyes and let my forehead rest against the cool wood. How had I fucked this up so royally? Slamming my palms against the doorjamb, I back away with one final look at the apartment. Jessie's words from minutes ago now find their way to the surface. I wasn't going to stop fighting for you, for us, because I love you too much.

Find a way to fix this, Kelsey's words echo in my head as well. Easier said than done, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try.

A/N: Sorry guys/gals! I know you all hate to see Jessie and Dean at odds. Believe me, it's not much fun for me either! But relationships are not easy. And the best ones are worth fighting for :). Hang in there! Things will get better. Eventually. Maybe.